


i don't know why you say 'goodbye'; i say 'hello'

by Analyse (D_Willims)



Series: it'll still be two days till we say we're sorry [14]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Author Is Traumatized by The Comics, Diego Is Very Worried, Gen, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, Good Sister Allison Hargreeves, I Heard A Rumor There's No Incest, Klaus Has A Lot Of Feels And Definitely Saw A Ghost (Or Several), Takes Place Between Luther Being Hurt and Luther Being Sent To The Moon, They're All Broken and Don't Know How To Do This, at least they're trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:08:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21612775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_Willims/pseuds/Analyse
Summary: Diego tries to get Klaus help.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Diego Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves
Series: it'll still be two days till we say we're sorry [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1288121
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	i don't know why you say 'goodbye'; i say 'hello'

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title from "Hello, Goodbye" by The Beatles.
> 
> Series title from "One Week" by the Bare Naked Ladies.

Diego’s head _throbs_. He leans it against the cool glass of the phone booth. Closes his eyes. Holds his breath and counts the seconds. Carefully, the way Dad taught them all. Seconds _matter_. He’s already spent most of his pocket change getting the run around from Allison’s assistants.

Even waiting to ask Allison for help is giving him a migraine. It’s more painful than getting shot in the head. _Just a graze_ , he reminds himself. He’s fine. It wasn’t even that bad and everyone made a fuss for nothing.

Expect that Diego feels small. And so cold, but too tired to even shiver properly. His head throbs painfully and his stomach roils. Over the ringing in his ears, he can hear Allison and Luther _fighting_. Not that he can focus long enough to catch what they’re saying. They sound like they’re underwater and he keeps getting distracted by stray thoughts like _go back to sleep_.

Distantly, he’s aware that all of this is wrong. Allison and Luther can’t be fighting because Allison moved out eight years ago. Because they’ve barely spoken two words to each other since they were sixteen. And Diego can’t be here, either, because he left. He found his corner in the boiler room of a boxing gym. Maybe all of that a dream, maybe they never left.

Maybe Ben’s still alive.

“Guh-guys…” Diego _tries_ to complain about the yelling. But it comes out so weak. Like the voice isn’t even his own. He tries to open his eyes but the right one remains stubbornly swollen shut and the left can only open a crack. Everything is a blurry swirl.

He tries to sit up, anyway, to get out of this bed. To get out of this house.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” Luther murmurs. His strong hands rest on his shoulders, pushing Diego back towards the pillow. He rubs soft, soothing circles with his thumbs against Diego’s collar bones. Gentler than Luther has ever been. “You’re safe now…”

And Diego struggles against his brother’s hands but only for a moment. Only to lean over the edge of the cot. He heaves all the meager contents of his stomach over Allison’s movie star stilettos.

“Diego?” Allison’s voice is somewhere in the middle between past and present. Between a soft sigh of concern and a harsh huff of frustration. She sounds like she’s been calling his name for a while. “Are you even there? I swear, if this is some…”

Every syllable cuts through his head like one of his knives. It takes too much effort to _listen_ and all he wants is to crawl back into bed. Sleep it off like a bad hangover. He forces himself to open eyes. Klaus is still there, in the window of the coffee shop across the street. Thin and fragile and curled around a cup of coffee like it’s a life saver.

_You’re the one that died_ , Klaus had said. He’d pressed ice cold fingers against the scar on the side of Diego’s head and accused him of dying. And Luther and Five and…

Diego swallows bile. “I need money,” he says.

“What? Killing yourself doesn’t pay the bills?” Allison sounds bitter. “I already told you I’m not saving your ass anymore.”

The last thing she’d said to him was not to call her next time he got shot. It was totally unfair. He hadn’t called her in the first place. But he had listed her as his next of kin when he’d entered the Police Academy; it was the only number Eudroa had to call.

She’d looked so hurt when he told her it was only because he thought she wouldn’t come.

And he hadn’t been able to say anything, hadn’t been able to stop her from leaving again. Instead, he’d let the anger get the better of him again. Thrown a knife and watched it sink into the door frame next to Allison’s head. She’d slammed the door, then. That had been it.

It was supposed to be forever.

Diego’s head throbs again. He closes his eyes. When he opens them, his vision is blurry. But he can still make out Klaus, not drinking the coffee. Just shivering and scratching at the inside of his elbow. Unrecognizable from even the last time he saw him.

Ben’s funeral six months ago. Klaus had vomited an entire bottle of stolen vodka down Allison’s dress and clung to her like a lifeline. Sobbed violently into her neck.

“It’s not for me,” he says softly. “Kl-klaus ne-needs…” Diego stops, swallows hard. Tries to center himself to make the words form right. He’s not supposed to be the one doing this.

“I’m not funding his drug habit.” But Allison sounds softer all at once, more concerned. She’s always softer when it comes to Klaus. Cradling him gently when he ruins her dress before collapsing against her. None of the sudden flares of anger that plagued Diego’s life.

He stomps a flare of anger down, now. It’s unfair but so is everything else.

“It’s for a pro-program. He thinks h-h-he’s seeing Be-be-be…” Diego stutters to a stop. His head throbs again and he just wants this all to be over already.

She latches onto that last word, though. Unfinished. A solid heaviness between them, even over the phoneline. “He hasn’t conjured a ghost in years,” she points out. Soft, sad. As if she had any right—she hadn’t been there. Allison _abandoned_ them. “Not since…”

Since he’d overdosed for the first time when they were sixteen. Luther had rescued him from an icy bath and claimed that Klaus had been talking about seeing Five’s ghost. Two days later, Klaus emerged from the infirmary, paler than usual and still trembling from head to toe. He claimed Luther was talking crazy.

It had just been the four of them, then. And no one had wanted to poke that wound. So they’d just let it sit there, let it fester. But now…

Now Klaus thought he saw Luther’s ghost, and Diego’s too. And Diego told him that he was talking crazy again. He had to be. It was the only thing that made sense.

“No shit, Alli-allison.” Diego’s head throbs and he closes his eyes again. Tries to wait the headache out. They come and go a lot now. He was supposed to see a doctor for more follow-up, but the thought made him sick.

“What if he _is_ seeing Ben?”

Leave it to Allison to voice what no one else wanted to say. _That_ thought makes Diego’s stomach churn so violently he has to slide down the wall of the phone booth. Crouch low on the sidewalk and breathe. The phone nearly slips from his fingers.

“Diego?”

“He sa-says he sa-saw Lu-lu-luther…” Diego swallows another mouthful of bile. Tries to remind himself to breathe. He keeps his damn mouth shut about _his_ supposed ghost. That wasn’t real. It wasn’t.

Allison’s breath catches on the other end of the phone. A half-sob and then she exhales slowly. “Luther isn’t dead,” she says calmly, evenly. Ever the voice of fucking reason. It makes Diego irrationally angry. Maybe because she isn’t here. Because she didn’t see the wet look in Klaus’s eyes or feel his skeletal fingers against her temple.

“I know!” He snaps. Breathes. “I kn-know. There’s a hos-hospital. Su-sunnyvi-view. I th-think it could he-help Kl-klaus.” _Please, Allison. Don’t make me beg._

“I’ll wire some money to the gym,” Allison says softly. That concern was creeping in again. He must sound as desperate as he felt. “Have the hospital send any bills to me; I can cover the stay.”

There’s a long stretched out pause where normal families would say something else. _See you later, alligator. After a while, crocodile._ Or where Allison would normally tell him to fuck off. Not to call again. Her brothers have been suffocating her for so long and Diego doesn’t blame her because he knows what that’s like.

He doesn’t know what he wants her to say. But he thinks he wants to tell her he’s sorry.

“Are you alright?” she says. It’s the worst thing she could say. And even though she doesn’t use those words, he can feel the undercurrent: _I heard a rumor…_

Breathe. Focus on the words. “Just some headaches,” he grumbles. No stutter, though, and he feels like maybe he’s pulling himself together.

“I could send you a ticket to California. You could get some rest and…”

“Fuck off, Allison.”

Silence. The operator kicks in: _Time is about to elapse. Please insert more change to continue this call._

“If you need anything, Diego…”

The call cuts off. Diego lets the receiver slip through his fingers. It dangles from the cord and he makes no move to hang it up properly.

For a moment, he just sits there, head pressed against the glass of the phone booth. Just breathes through the nausea. Until he’s pretty sure that he won’t puke everywhere. He’s fine. His head is fine. Everyone just needs to stop worrying about it.

Diego stands and shoves his hands into his pockets, crosses the street quickly. Inside the café feels like a different world. Warm and bright and _normal_. He feels so sickeningly out of place and he ducks his head a little as he makes his way to Klaus.

Klaus doesn’t even acknowledge him, just keeps staring unfocused at the tabloid in front of him. _Allison Hargreeves Hiding A Baby Bump?!_ Diego scoffs. As if Allison could ever be anyone’s mother. Mom is soft and sweet and gentle and Allison is cold and violent and selfish.

“Hey, buddy,” Diego says softly as if he’s talking to a small child and not his grown ass brother. He reaches one hand out to rub Klaus’s back gently. “How are you feeling?”

“This club is the worst,” Klaus mumbles. He turns his head to blink at Diego. His pupils are blown so wide Diego thinks Klaus probably can’t even see him. “The music sucks and no one has any acid.”

“It’s a coffee shop,” Diego points out. He can feel his frustration rising even as he tries to stay calm. “And you don’t need any more acid.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Jesus, Klaus. Get your shit together.”

Klaus hums and then snuggles into Diego’s shoulder like a cat. Closes his eyes. Diego wonders if he intends to fall asleep right then and there. “Did you talk to Luther?”

Of course. Klaus has had a one-track mind all night. _Luther’s dead, Diego. His chest is gone_. “No,” Diego answers.

“Because he’s dead.”

“Because I called Allison.” And maybe he should’ve saved some change to try and call Luther. But Dad sure as fuck wasn’t going to get Klaus the help he needed and Allison had the money. _Her own_ money. She was the only one that could throw Klaus the lifeline.

“Do you ever think maybe Allison wasn’t even real? She’s not a ghost and Dr. Terminal ate like half of her. That’s some weird shit, man.”

“ _Klaus_.” Diego reaches for Klaus’s untouched coffee. Downs it in one gulp. He’s not a big coffee drinker but it’s something to keep busy. To keep him thinking from the shit Klaus is saying. “Fuck, bro. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Has _she_ talked to Luther?” Klaus stays snuggled in, unperturbed.

“I didn’t ask.”

“Because Luther’s dead and Allison isn’t real and nothing even matters anymore. I need some acid.”

“ _Fuck off_.” Diego shoves at Klaus. Too violently and Klaus careens to the side, crashes to the floor. Nearly hits his head on the way down. The barista behind the counter glares over at them, but the shop is otherwise empty and Diego is grateful for that.

“I think my platelets have been replaced with silver fish,” Klaus responds dreamily from the floor. He doesn’t sound like he’s all there, like there’s anything there. But there’s tears making their way from his eyes and back to his ears. “Platelets. That’s a funny word…”

“Sir?” the barista calls. “We’re closing. I need you and your friend to leave right now.”

The sign says there’s at least twenty-eight minutes until close. But Diego doesn’t argue. He doesn’t belong here, anyway. Instead he reaches down and hauls Klaus up to his feet. His brother sways in place and then collapses against Diego’s shoulders.

“Carry me?” Klaus is breathing heavy against Diego’s neck. “Shut up, Ben. My feet are tired.”

Something in Diego’s heart seizes and he curls his hands under Klaus’s knees. He’s too light. And it’s nothing at all for Diego to carry him piggyback out of the coffee shop and back out into the cold, dark night. It feels safer out here. “Come on, asshole. You need to sl-sleep it aw-off. I’m t-t-taking you to the hosp-hospital in the morn-morning.”

“Mmm.” Klaus presses his face into Diego’s shoulder. “I bet Luther comes to visit. He’s dead, you know. Did you get my magazine? About the baby? Allison was always Luther’s favorite…” A yawn interrupts the rambling. Then, “She’s everyone’s favorite. Dream girl. Do you ever wonder if she’s real at all?”

“Dream girl?” Diego snorts. “Allison’s an asshole. And so are you, fucker.”

Klaus doesn’t respond. His breathing evens out against Diego’s shoulder.

“Fucker.”

**Author's Note:**

> Some thoughts and explanations? Let's call the ramblings of the author's headspace.
> 
> 1) Takes place roughly in the middle of 'would you stick around for the comedown?' after Klaus meets up with Diego again.
> 
> 2) I had this idea that it was possible the rest of the Hargreeves believed the best in Klaus and trusted him when he said he hadn't conjured a ghost in years. Because it hurts more to believe that Ben was there the whole time and Klaus was lying about not conjuring ghosts than it does for them to just not believe Klaus when he starts throwing bowling balls through the conversation about whether or not they're killing Vanya.
> 
> 3) The idea that Klaus thinks Allison might not be real comes from my frustration with the comics. Allison gets brutalized throughout, even compared to the canon-typical violence. To the point that it's genuinely an uncomfortable read for me. I fully believe that Klaus saw Luther's ghost when he flatlined from the chemical burns and that he saw Diego's from the that's-a-nasty-head-scar-incident-that's-unspecified-in-canon. And the fact that, despite being repeatedly brutalized to the point it would kill a normal person, Klaus hasn't seen Allison's ghost makes her less real to him.


End file.
